


Darts

by tatooedlaura



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27497182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: All she wanted was a damn cheeseburger ...
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Darts

All she wanted was a damn cheeseburger.

Healthy food had been abandoned for the mouthwatering greasy goodness of cow on bun with bacon and cheese, lettuce and tomato, pickles and more pickles … it would have been sinful had she been paying any kind of attention but instead, she hovered over the body, semi-messy stitches in the Y-incision betraying her thoughts, needle half through skin as she swallowed hard and hoped she hadn’t drooled on Mr. Edmund Rossiter.

She was fucked up and she knew it … wasn’t afraid to admit it … wouldn’t tell anyone but Mulder about it … needed to find a blasted burger right Goddamned now …

Tuesday. Well, she was pretty sure it was Tuesday, maybe Wednesday but who honestly knew what the hell damned day it was at this point but she remembered a McDonald’s wrapper and Mulder saying something about extra mayo … ketchup?

Fuck, she needed a cheeseburger.

Turning around, she nearly cried when she saw the tech there, sheepishly holding another folder, another gurney in the hall behind him, a sad little offered granola bar or possibly a Snickers in his other hand.

She might have to kill him and cook him over the Bunsen burner.

Might.

&&&&&&&&&&

It had been a crappy Mounds bar but she accepted it without growling at the shrinking lab minion, knowing he hadn’t killed these people and messenger status made him safe both inside the lab and outside in the real world.

A world where they ate cheeseburgers.

&&&&&&&&&&

Glory came to her in the form of a pink Post-it stating that when she was done, she should come to the bar across the street, Harley’s? Marley’s? … she needed to have a word with him about hurried penmanship at some point in the future but right now … bar.

A bar would have food?

It damn well better.

&&&&&&&&&&

She smelled the place before she crossed the street.

Heaven with a side of fries.

A car nearly took her out because she crossed the street without looking but after a quick middle finger and a shrug, she made it through the door.

She’d feel bad about the hand gesture later.

Because she’d spotted him.

A half-empty beer glass in front of him along with what might be cheesesticks with a generous side of marinara and Ranch. She’d propose with a future, 20 minutes from now onion ring if he offered to share his wares.

Without pretense of a ‘hello’, she sat, he signaled the waitress and told her flat out, “you look like you need at least three beers and a fucking cheeseburger.”

Tears nearly nearly nearly filled her eyes when he shoved the deep-fried appetizer towards her. Taking one, “they’re cold.”

“You sew too slow and do you really care?”

Inhaling two more, she finally sloughed off her coat, stuffing it in the corner of the booth, “at the moment, I’d eat the pee mints by the bathroom.”

His eyebrows raised, “really? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that hard up.”

Dropping back against the booth, she wiggled, “I am also nearly ready to take off this bra and these stupid shoes.”

Eyebrows back up for an encore, but speech impaired by the suddenly appearing waitress, “finally ready to order?”

Mulder shook his head so minutely only Scully would ever notice and withdrawing the claws because of irritatingly rude woman with messy ponytail, she rattled off her order, Mulder seeing her swallow as she finished saying ‘extra pickles’.

Once ponytail disappeared carrying both their precious food orders and liquor requests, “you should, maybe, finish the cheesesticks before you kill somebody.”

She ate.

&&&&&&&&

The food quieted her irritation with the world, allowing her to finally notice his tight jaw muscles, three beers not having done much to quell his anger at the case they’d had thrown at them, one they had no business working in the first place.

She really didn’t want to rehash the details of anything either of them had done that day, instead slipping her shoes off and propping her feet up on the bench across from her, one foot curving around each of his thighs in a friendly type gesture of ‘if we stay in this booth, the world can’t get us’.

They sat comfortably silent with each other while a new waitress cleared their table, replenished for the fourth or fifth time at this point, their drinks, Mulder going between staring into amber liquid and staring at her, finger ringing the rim of the glass until they left alone again.

She couldn’t make out what he was thinking and swiping a line of condensation from her own mug, she took a shot in the dark, “I’m thinking we probably shouldn’t be driving at this point.”

Flat delivery of one who wanted more but was over the age of 25, “probably not.”

Wiggling her toes against him, “I saw a pool table back there and a dartboard. I can stuff myself back in my shoes and we can go see what kind of damage we can do?”

“Are you some kind of pool shark or dart savant who’s going to chew me up and spit me out, make me feel belittled and cranky?”

She went with a middle of the road answer as she moved to find her shoes, “possibly.”

He didn’t smile but at least she saw some tension leave his forehead, “can’t say you didn’t warn me.”

So …

Scully had absolutely no idea how to throw a dart … like … at all. Nearly poked a larger gentleman in the eye when one throw went wild while another lodged itself, swear to God, in the ceiling, “how the hell did you do that?”

“Apparently my sharpshooter skills are limited to the SigSauer kind.”

This comment elicited approving looks from several around them, both men and women, and while Scully went to collect her wayward darts, one of the men sidled up to Mulder, nodding in Scully’s direction, “she yours?”

Now, normally, he would correct such a wild accusation but instead, he gave the man a lopsided lip curl and an adorable head tilt/shoulder half-shrug that she would never witness, answering with ‘sort of’ and heading towards his partner, taking the outheld darts from her as if they were weapons of the deadly variety, “why don’t we put these away and go get one last beer before we head back?”

“I was just getting warmed up.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you were.” Taking her by the elbow a little tighter than normal, warm palm on rounded point, “my treat.”

“Then, Mr. Mulder, I will take two.”

&&&&&&&&&

The hotel was luckily only three blocks over and one down with a pleasantly friendly walk in between, Scully toying with Mulder’s fingers every few steps, Mulder walking close enough to give her easy access, “well, we drank but I still remember we have to work in the morning.”

“Apparently, we did it wrong.”

“That’s what we get for sticking to the clear beer. Two Guinness would have had me forgetting your name along with a whole lot of other things.”

He nearly turned her around to go get a few glasses of the magic stuff but he declined, feet only missing one step before falling back into pattern, “can I tell you something?”

“Of course.” Her fingers found his, squeezing thumb for a precious moment before going back to search, find, drop, repeat, “you should know that by now.”

He began his own finger finding, pretending badly that he was just brushing against her with uncommon frequency, “so one of the guys back there, after the Sig comment, asked if you were mine.”

This shifted into highly interesting very quickly, “and?”

Giving her a smile, he found her fingers solidly this time, “come one, we’ve got a few more blocks.”

“No, you don’t.” Pulling him sideways, she stepped up on the low cement wall bordering the sidewalk, balancing precariously above some scrawny half-dead bushes, a little higher than eye level, “what did you tell him?”

She got to see a version of his lopsided lip curl, head tilting, adorable half shoulder shrug, “I may have said ‘sort of’.”

Not answering, she simply studied the man in front of her, tilting her own head and looking even more adorable then she smiled, lip closed and reaching for his shoulders, turned him around, proceeding to climb up his back, arms wrapped around neck, thighs hugging sides, “take me home, Mulder.”

He did but before he’d gone a block, he looked back at her, lips brushing cheek, “how come you didn’t hit me for my answer?”

Smiling again, “’cause I sort of agree.”

Hands under her ass holding her up, he dwelled for a moment, “you’re sort of mine?”

“Only if you’re sort of mine back. It’s only fair.”

Another half a block, “next time, I think we should order the Guinness and try our best to do that forgetting thing.”

Because she could, she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, “next time.”

“I’ll even buy you another cheeseburger.”

Fifteen steps, “Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”


End file.
